Return to Illusion
by x nihilo
Summary: Soul Society weathered betrayal and spends the year after the Winter War regrouping. Aizen assumes those from his past stay there, but one quiet figure haunts his future. Retsu rethinks her actions, and comrades. Some Aizen/Retsu/Ukitake, Grimmjow/Isane.
1. Chapter 1

**Return to Illusion**

Unohana made her way through Fourth Division's quiet streets. There was a lull in wounded from the Eleventh Division, creating a pleasant atmosphere on the warm day, something everyone in her squad cherished.

It wouldn't last long.

She sighed. She knew it was only a matter of short time before Captain Zaraki's newly recruited academy graduates would come – staggering – into her ward for medical treatment. It was always the same. New recruits, new injuries flooding her spare beds in every barrack.

She smiled at a few members of her division as they passed her. She had new recruits, too. In the months since Aizen Sousuke had turned Soul Society inside out and been beaten by the shinigami there had been other upsets. Traitorous captains to replace, morale to bolster, egos and trust to rebuild.

She saw it most in Fifth and Third Divisions, but everyone had felt the treason, even the Old Man himself.

"Captain!" Isane called to Unohana as she stepped off the porch of Fourth's last row of medical bunkers. "Captain Unohana, please, a moment."

"Of course, Isane." Unohana stopped, looking far up at her very tall lieutenant as she crossed the yard to the barrack of patients.

"I just heard that Captain Zaraki has ceased training for the day," Isane said. "I guess we'll see no more wounded for a while."

Unohana nodded, sighing. "Very well. He drives those probationaries too hard sometimes," she mused. "They're so young, and fresh out of Academy. Oh, but you mustn't say anything of that to Captain Zaraki, Isane. That's just my opinion. It's Captain Zaraki's division."

"Oh, no," Isane said, paling a little. "I wouldn't."

Unohana smiled demurely at the tall woman. Isane was a trusting, loyal vice-captain, strong yet sensitive. A sweetheart, as Unohana had inadvertently overheard Ikkaku say once when he was drunk. "I know you won't. I'm going off base for a few hours. You'll take care of everything, won't you, Isane?"

"Of course, Captain, but don't you need me with you?" Isane didn't plead, but the appeal was obvious in her face.

"This is not official Society business; it's, it's a smaller task." Unohana's eyes clouded for a brief moment. "I have a grave to visit."

"Oh, a ...grave?"

"I won't be long." Unohana glanced back to the barracks where inside were the least-wounded of their charges. These would be the first patients to be released. She looked to Isane. "I'll be back soon."

"Yes, Captain."

Unohana moved away from the porch and to the lane weaving between the buildings of Fourth. She was a few steps away when Isane called again to her.

"Someone close, Captain?"

Unohana stopped, her gaze dropping to the pebble strewn path before she looked over her shoulder to her lieutenant. "At one time, yes, Isane; someone close. When we were different people."

"Yes, Captain."

Unohana turned back down the path.

The captains of Soul Society enjoyed freedoms not available to most shinigami, and some captains had access to certain areas otherwise off-limits to others. Some of those spots no one wanted access to, such at places Captain Kurotsuchi felt most at home; others, no one much cared about.

Few would have chosen to visit Muken, even if they had permission, but that's where Unohana went. It was hot even at the outer perimeter, blistering exposed skin if the arid winds were caught wrong, and suffocating dry. It was the very spot someone of Aizen Sousuke's caliber should be, she thought, wading deeper into the smoky dark that surrounded the hellish place. The smell of brimstone was strong in the cave as she entered into the back of the yawning cavern that would eventually lead to the inner depths of Muken.

It was a route few knew and no one wanted to explore, even Kurotsuchi. It was the Captain of Twelfth's very nature that prompted Unohana's visit to the deepest of damnation. Only a few days ago word had come from Hueco Mundo that the away team there under Kurotsuchi's lead had found some 'interesting prospects', as it had been termed.

Unohana wasn't one to fear much, but this bit of news spiked her cautions.

That news had led to a rift of speculation, drawing out even Momo and Izuru from their general hibernation of soul-searching. Shuuhei, too, she assumed, but the acting captain of Ninth was dealing a little better with his new responsibilities and feelings of abandonment.

She followed the twisting cave until it narrowed to a corridor, the stone around her hot as her shoulder brushed one wall, no condensation shining on the scorching surfaces. The temperature elevated to sweltering as she continued on, ever aware of the corridor delving deeper, a thousand steps to every level of the rings of hell. She didn't count them; that was why she took the back route.

Well, one reason, anyway.

She unbraided her hair when the heat became too much and tossed it over her shoulder. Around her were the wailings and murmurings, the steam and boiling blood of those unfortunates who still had blood, and the rattle of chains from unseen miserable souls.

She took the next corridor and stopped.

To see the image of Sousuke Aizen after the last year of doing damage control from his meticulously planned battles was unsettling. He was chained to the far wall, chains made of spiritual-suppressing reiatsu that countered anything the man in the thick cuffs could retain.

He was haggard in his torn pants and shirt, a bit gaunt, his hair the unkempt style he'd worn at the trial, but beneath it all he was still the visage of Aizen Sousuke.

It didn't fool Retsu Unohana. It never had.

She stopped a few paces away from his darkened cell of roughly carved stone, out of reach of his length of chain that bound him. Her cool look settled over him, estimating his attitude.

"You took your time," he said.

"Did I?" She smiled softly, a gesture some in the divisions had called motherly, which always made her smile more. "There had been quite the upheaval in Soul Society."

"As planned."

"Yes." Her gaze wandered over his build, the measurement nearly matching what she recalled of the Aizen who had served beside her as captain for decades in the ranks. "Was it worth it? Was it worth whatever he gave you in exchange for taking his place at the trial?"

A low growl came from him, his eyes narrowing on her.

She let one hand gesture to the hot walls that glowed red in some spots. "Was it worth all this?"

"He said you'd be here sooner." He stepped closer, taking up half the length of his chains, still out of her reach.

She smiled, this time with little of the motherly qualities for which she was so well-known. "He said a lot of things." Some of her smile fell away, a harder one taking its place. "Captain Kurotsuchi is busy at the Las Noches laboratories. It's only a matter of time before he's found. I've kept suspicions at bay, but I can only do so much with what he left me."

He shook his head. "He left you with a good deal of quality –"

"This?" She laughed. "_You_? The finest quality workmanship he could manage is _you_? If Captain Kurotsuchi had had time to examine the body Sousuke left that was supposed to be him when he faked his death, this would have been over much sooner. Kurotsuchi is a mad man, but he's no fool." She gave a short laugh. "You think I don't know Sousuke's body when I touch it?"

He backed up a step at the chill laugh coming from her. Aizen hadn't mentioned that part of the plan to him.

"The ensuing chaos of his departure made fooling them possible to those who knew him best, but not me," she said levelly, shaking her head. "Never me, and some of them suspected that then."

Namely, she knew, it was Shunsui and Ukitake who gave her the questioning looks, like when she'd stood by at Rukia's execution without lifting a hand, silent without voicing a word of protest.

"I am the ultimate compassionate figure in Soul Society," she said, reaching into her pocket. "My division heals. We make whole again damaged bodies." Her voice lowered to a melodic sound he hadn't heard in the hellish depths in months. "We repair lives and limbs, we comfort and nurture. No one suspects me now."

She pulled something from her pocket and kept it in her hand, seeing his eyes go to her fist. She watched as the expectation slipped over him, the desperate hope that he still clung to. It was interesting to her; she'd seen such looks on the wounded in her ward as they approached an irreversible death, and she relished in pulling them back from that portal.

It was also a look that she knew Aizen would never wear.

"But when he gives me weak imitations of himself," she continued, easing her grip, seeing his hungry eyes watch the movement, "shallow puddles of Aizen Sousuke, like you are, I have no choice but to wonder at Aporro's ability. Are you seriously the best imitation of him Aporro can create?"

He nodded, still looking at her hand. "It was enough to fool everyone else."

Unohana raised her hand, twisting the small object in her fingers. "It won't be long before Captain Kurotsuchi finds him and there is nothing I can do to stop that. You should be enough of a distraction to make the Old Man pull everyone out of Hueco Mundo." She smiled as he looked to her face. "I've kept my part of the agreement."

He nodded, holding her severe stare. "I don't know anything about –"

"No, you don't," she said. She tossed the key into the cinders and ash covering the floor between them. "You know what you're told. That's enough. Now," she said, watching him walk the length of the chain and stoop to where the key had dropped on the floor, "you can stay here stranded with your spiritual powers castrated, or you can make yourself useful."

He knelt, straining at the shackles at his wrists that cut his powers, stretching the arm with the longest chain to reach the key in the ashes. It was barely within reach, his fingertips pressing onto the edge of the key.

"Does the Sixth Espada know about you?" she asked, stepping away to the corridor.

He looked up, grunting as his index finger dragged the key closer. "Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez? Why?"

Unohana watched him strain at the chains to pull the key. "Because no one is quite sure if he's truly dead."

"I don't know."

The key hit an uneven part of the floor and flipped a few inches away. "Damn," he mumbled, reaching again for it.

"Yes," she said, leaving.

He didn't see her go, his freedom and new lease on playing Aizen Sousuke again a measly key away.

Unohana made her way back up the stone corridors, to the lighter air outside Muken, braiding her hair as she went.

As if she would not have known Sousuke's body by mere touch. Fools.

Within the hour she was back at Soul Society, in her division, having dusted the stench of hell off her captain's coat.

To resume the genteel role of the Captain Unohana everyone would recognize and expect.


	2. Chapter 2

Bright daylight shed into the recovery dormitory of Fourth Division. It was a little used building, reserved for patients under long-term care from physical injuries, and had few patients. Those there, however, got top of the line care. Most wounds – physical wounds – were from Eleventh Division training; reiatsu and spiritual damages, however, were treated with Kidou and reiryoku-rebuilding therapy.

But, some damages were a combination of those assaults, requiring longer therapy, and that was why Gin Ichimaru was still in the recovery dorm. It hadn't been too bad, he had to admit. His recuperation and following prolonged recovery period gave Soul Society a chance to redeem him.

They had to listen to his explanation, and when the chatter and accusations were done, he'd been cleared. No thanks to Soi Fon, he thought sourly, lying in his bed, eyes closed as the warm sun fell through the window on him. Soi Fon still held a bit of a grudge.

He still wasn't up to par – actually, far from any par – but he was slowly recovering. He had no duties, and his bouts with fits of recurring, debilitating reiatsu fluctuations had kept him in Fourth, and usually bed-bound.

The door opened to his small room and he looked there. He hoped it was Rangiku, he always hoped it was her, but he could tell by the shadow alone that it wasn't her. He closed his eyes again. Maybe if he played sleeping Unohana would go away and stop prodding him with pointy things.

"And how are you today, Gin?" Unohana asked as she entered the room. She gave him a smile as he opened his eyes a little. "You know Lieutenant Matsumoto plans to visit later. That should cheer you up."

"Oh, yeah, always does," he said. He sat up more, leaning to the wall behind his cot. "When do I get to bust outta here?"

Unohana gave him a knowing look as she sat beside his bed on the chair there. "Now, Gin, you were one of the strongest captains in the Gotei Thirteen. You're a mere shadow of yourself." She sorted through the bag she carried at her shoulder. "You still have fits of incoherence. We can't have you making a public spectacle of yourself in front of future division members."

He leaned back, watching her pull a pad and pen from her bag. "What's it matter what they think of me if I'm captain?"

She raised an eyebrow. "And if you're not captain?"

He frowned. "That ain't funny, Retsu."

"No, it's not, and you have to be up to standards before I give you a clean bill of health to pick up where you left off here before you turned traitor."

"Hey, I was cleared of that."

"I know. I voted for you." She settled the pad in front of her so he couldn't see the top sheet of paper. "Gin, you were not only under a lot of strain in your time away from Soul Society," she said kindly, "but you'd turned your back on everyone who trusted you. That kind of treasonous – _apparently_ treasonous – behavior does things to the mind. It impairs your ability to function, to perform to your utmost –"

"There ain't nothing wrong with my performance," he said stoutly. "You can ask Rangiku about that."

"I most certainly will not," she said crisply. "One, that's not my business, and two," she added as he smiled slowly, "you're not supposed to be engaging in sexual activity here while convalescing."

This time his scowl came with a flush. "It helps me recover."

"And three," she said, "the shinigami mind is made up of compartments we must keep separated to perform our duties. Too much in any one compartment sometimes strains the walls, you may say, and the information and reasoning start to seep into each other."

"Don't go into illusions and perceptions again," he said dryly, shifting on the bed as he felt another tedious lecture coming on from her. "I've had enough of that."

"We all have." She looked down at her paper, the pen in her hand. "Now, you apparently deceived Soul Society with...?"

"Tousen. We've been through this."

"Humor me."

"Aw, we've done this a dozen times," he whined, sighing as she gave him a tolerant look. "My answers ain't gonna change."

"Well, then another dozen times should give us a good idea of your stability as a functioning member of Society." She watched him carefully. "Now, Aizen took you and Tousen with him. Did he want Lieutenant Kira to go with you, too?"

"'Course not."

"And Lieutenant Hinamori?"

"Nope."

"It was just the three of you?" She noted his hesitancy at answering.

"Yep."

"Are you certain, Gin?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

She sat straighter. "Not Captain Kurotsuchi?"

"'Course not."

"Sometimes we remember things wrong, Gin," she said, her voice dropping to a soothing low tone. "Do you have any periods of memory lapse?"

"No."

"Any moments when you think you recall memories incorrectly?"

Now he gave her a wry smile. "Only when you pump me full of those blue pills."

She didn't smile as much as she wanted to, instead keeping the soft, motherly smile on her lips. "Agitation only leads to early exhaustion. You don't want that, do you, Gin? You don't want to sleep through Lieutenant Matsumoto's visit today, do you?"

"Hell, no." He looked to the doorway, hoping for a shapely shadow to cross it. None did.

"The blue pills, as you call them, are to help lessen the taxing nature of your shinigami powers. They'll come back, in full, despite your reiryoku injuries. You'll be at full power, and then I can recommend you to captaincy again." She consulted her pad of paper. "Did you ever suspect Aizen of working with anyone else?"

"Yeah, lots of 'em."

She gave his somewhat goofy smile a shake of her head. "Not the Espada; anyone here, in Soul Society."

"I kinda thought maybe Urahara." He nodded, watching her steadily. "But he ain't 'xactly Soul Society."

"No, certainly not."

"And," he said, stretching his arms overhead until his white kimono sleeves slid down his elbows, "I thought he would have tried to sway a few others."

Unohana's eyes locked on his barely opened ones. "You did?"

He nodded, returning her stare.

"Why? Who did you suspect?"

"Suspect? Oh, not suspect anyone, but I thought he wanted to try to take Momo along. She was a compliant little thing, and she adored him. Thought he would want his little 'yes, Captain' girl along. But he didn't."

"Why would you think that?" Unohana breathed easier that he hadn't named her. Yet.

"Just watching Momo, watching Aizen. Watching people, you can tell a lot by what they don't say, what they don't do." He nodded. "You can."

"Very true, Gin."

He looked to the pad of paper hidden from him at her waist. Always Unohana had it during her questions, never did she share her findings. This time, he wanted a few answers. "So, what do you think? I can bust outta here soon?"

She smiled. "I think so. Your recuperation has taken some time, I know, but I think you're clearly getting stronger, with fewer set-backs."

"So," he said, pausing, trying on one of his less sneaky smiles, "can I see your answers?"

She smiled and turned the pad so he could see the page. It was blank.

"What?" The less-sneaky smile fell from Gin's face, leaving only bewilderment. "So...no questions? Retsu –"

"Like you said, Gin," she reminded, standing, "you can tell a lot by watching people. What they say, what they don't." She put the pad and pen in her bag. "I think your ability to compartmentalize – keep reality from illusion, you may say – is getting stronger. That's important for a captain. And, since you were exposed to Kyouka Suigetsu for so long, I need to know you don't remember any memories falsely."

He muttered something she didn't quite hear.

She set two large blue tablets beside his bed on the small stand by the pitcher of water and drinking glass. "You can take these after Lieutenant Matsumoto leaves – today – and not with saké."

He gave her a guilty grin. "Okay."

Unohana left the extended recovery dormitory after that, passing Rangiku as she did. They exchanged a few words, pleasantries, and then continued on their separate ways. Relief flooded Unohana as she went through her division.

She was always leery about her meetings with Gin. She wanted him to be on edge, too, to keep him within control. She had expected him to be killed during the War; when he appeared as a wounded hero, well, that presented a potential problem. She wasn't sure how much, if anything, Aizen had told his lieutenant. Nor was she certain how much Gin had figured out on his own.

She hadn't known Gin wasn't fully involved. She'd been fooled just like the rest of Soul Society by the silver-haired captain. Keeping Gin alternately drugged and low-powered in the reiatsu recovery department was risky, and she knew she couldn't do it for long.

She was becoming convinced that he knew nothing about her arrangement with Aizen. She wanted to be positive, beyond any doubt. She was almost there.

Loud voices rose from Division Four's outer gates and within moments, members from Fourth were hurrying to the wide opening to see what was causing the commotion. Unohana followed.

Down the center of the Seireitei mainway came shinigami troops from several divisions. They were a raucous bunch, mostly made up of Eleventh and Second Division. The voices were belligerent from cheers and jeers, a few laughing. Those from Second Division were a little more subdued.

"They've got a prisoner!" someone yelled from the perimeter of the gates as most of Fourth looked on. "It's the detail from Hueco Mundo!"

Unohana bristled at the words. She let herself be swept up with her division, nearing the open gates leading to the street.

It wasn't Sousuke Aizen. The prisoner wasn't Aizen.

In the midst of the hot, dusty thoroughfare was a hot, dusty prisoner of war, bleeding through the makeshift bandages and dirt of two realms. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez was bound with his arms somewhat behind his back, reiatsu sealing cuffs awkwardly secured with his dismembered arm dangling from one cuff, the cuffs locked at the back of his waist. He was too weary and injured to be as angry as he wanted to be, but he sent anyone within sight a shriveling glare.

The shinigami around him kept him in line with Eleventh Division easily, still with a few swords drawn, just in case. He snapped at anyone who dared speak to him, but he knew the futility of picking a battle he could not win.

He spotted Unohana standing at the gate with her division as the pack of returning shinigami reached Fourth.

She watched him pass, her concerns now spiking at the thought of another survivor from Hueco Mundo in Soul Society. Her relief that Aizen had not been captured lessened as Grimmjow glared at her.

She couldn't tell what was in his face. She didn't even know if he knew who she was.

But then he grinned – that leering, insane grin that made his enemies see instantly the love of battle in the Espada. She kept on her most motherly smile.

Beside her, Hanataro looked up to her. "Captain Unohana, his arm is hanging from his handcuffs!"

"Yes, I see that," she told him, watching Grimmjow turn his head and go with the shinigami toward Second Division. "He's severely injured." She smiled at her officer. "I think he should have medical treatment before he's interrogated."

Hanataro watched the boisterous pack move down the street. "Can we fix that?"

Unohana recalled Hiyori's injuries. "I think so, if Jaegerjaquez's has the will to survive his considerable wounds." She nodded. "We can fix nearly anthing."


End file.
